


Chicago: A Five (Ten) Things Meme

by omphale23



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My contribution to the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/bitchinparty/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/bitchinparty/"><b>bitchinparty</b></a> 'zine, written on the plane using a free pharmaceutical pen and the stationary I was meant to use to write a letter to my grandparents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicago: A Five (Ten) Things Meme

1\. Fraser remembers the smells. Hot tar and garbage and the exhaust of too many many cars. The fumes of too much humanity in too small a space. It took him weeks to clear his head when he left.

1\. Ray thinks about Chicago wind. Hot and sticky in the summer, carrying with it all the scents of home, the sounds of kids playing in the alleys. When the wind of Canada bites at his face, leaves his eyes watering and his skin burning cold-hot, Ray thinks about the salt smell of hot dog carts and that wind, a little gross and maybe perfect, gusting in through the windows with the road of traffic.

*

2\. Fraser's apartment, tiny and nearly empty with his desire to be somewhere else. Simple meals cooks alone and the glow of a kerosene lantern. He doesn't think about candlelight reflecting on the window. Instead, Fraser remembers Ray, his first Ray, knocking on the door and entering without waiting for an answer.

2\. Ray misses the GTO. He doesn't want it, really. Fixing Fraser's truck keeps him busy, gives him a way to get around. But rattling down washboard roads to town, racing Dief down the driveway, isn't the same as burying the speedometer on I-94 in the middle of the night.

*

3\. Lake Michigan kept him sane, with its dozens of parks and the stretch of water (not home, but at least he could see). And along the lake, museums that he dreamed about as a child, the happy side effect of too many people around him.

3\. The River. Which, to be fair, wouldn't be on anyone's list of favorite places, or things, or smells. But on August afternoons, if he timed it right, the buildings across from Wacker lit up in the blazing sunlight.

That was the skyline Ray saw in his dreams.

*

4\. Fraser remembers the Consulate, although it technically wasn't Chicago at all. He remembers both of them, and the officers he worked with over the years. His cot in a storage room turned grudgingly into an office. He doesn't miss it.

4\. Ray loved the bodega up the street. They had the best peanuts there, dusted with chili powder and toasted and sprinkled with just enough fresh lime juice. They had an old scratchy record collection and the kid behind the counter taught Ray to swear in French while Fraser was in the back, trying to save the owner money by picking the sandwich set to expire the soonest.

*

5\. Ray. This Ray, the one who followed him north, followed him home. Ray, who grows silent sometimes with the pull of his own memories, but never suggests they go back.

5\. Stella isn't even there, hasn't been in years, but she'll always be tied up in his memories of Chicago.

She shows up when he's thinking about baseball, with her hair tied back and squinting at the outfield. She's there on the bus, watching Michigan avenue roll past. She's walking down the sidewalk under pale green trees, trailing her hand along a chainlink fence.

He doesn't think about it much, but when he does, Stella's there.


End file.
